


The Stowaway

by madjm



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 22:52:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5684092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madjm/pseuds/madjm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stowing away on a pirate ship was possibly the worst decision Princess Emma of Misthaven had ever made. Captain Swan AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Stowaway

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the CS Secret Santa on Tumblr.

Princess Emma of Misthaven was known throughout the realm for being smart as well as beautiful. Her tutors gave her top marks in every subject she studied, she spoke three languages at only 20 years old, and she knew court etiquette and royal hierarchy in at least 10 kingdoms who traded with Misthaven.

 

Turns out, none of that knowledge was remotely helpful when you discovered that your entire life was a lie.

 

Knowing that the Duke of Embry outranked the Marquis of Olenvan was not going to save her from dying of seasickness while crammed between barrels in the dark hold of a pirate ship in rough seas.

 

At least if she was going to die, she would do it on her own terms. At least she wouldn’t be a pawn in her mother’s game anymore.

 

Mother, who wasn’t really her mother at all. Emma blinked back tears, curling up on her side and trying not to throw up, from seasickness or from her own memories.

 

 

**8 hours earlier**

 

“I won’t do it,” Emma murmured to herself, staring in the mirror while she brushed her hair. “I won’t.”

 

It had only been an hour since Mother had swept in to her room and announced without fanfare that Emma was now betrothed to Baelfire, son of Rumpelstiltskin.

 

“Emma,” Queen Regina had cooed, holding her shoulders. “Dear, you will be securing an alliance that will benefit our kingdom for a long time. I’m sure this Baelfire is a charming young man, and his father is quite powerful.”

 

“He’s the _Dark One_ ,” Emma said, wincing as her mother’s hands tightened on her shoulders. 

 

“Don’t be so judgmental,” Regina ordered. “And what the hell are you wearing? Rumple is bringing Baelfire here in a few hours; it won’t do for him to see you dressed like common trash. I’ll send in one of the maids to help you get ready. Do _not_ let me down.”

 

“ _Do not let me down_ ,” was probably the phrase she heard most often from the queen growing up, and she learned early to do her best to please her mother. Regina could be quite generous and almost affectionate with her daughter, as long as she always got her way. Regina often rewarded Emma with necklaces, rings and bracelets of all kinds of gems and valuable metals. 

 

Emma didn’t care much for such things, but she knew her mother did, so she gratefully accepted them, though she often wished Regina would simply spend more time with her instead. It got lonely in the castle, and she learned at a young age that if she became friendly with one of the servants, they would be let go in no time. It was beneath a princess to befriend the staff, and it was just another way she could let her mother down.

 

And Emma tried to be good, she really did. She studied hard, took her etiquette lessons seriously and curbed her impulsive tongue. She spoke, behaved and dressed the way Mother wanted her to, even when it went against her instincts. All she wanted was her mother’s love, and she did her best to earn it.

 

But this was going too far. Regina had sworn to her that she could pick her own husband, that she wouldn’t be sold to another kingdom like an object instead of a person. She had _promised_.

 

“I won’t do it,” she repeated, standing up. She gave a half-hearted glance at the “suitable” dresses one of the maids had laid out for her before leaving the room wearing the trousers and plain tunic she wore to go riding. She already knew she was going to anger her mother; she might as well go all out.

 

She slowed as she neared Regina’s room, momentarily allowing her doubts to get the best of her. Regina was frightening when she was angry, but being married off to a stranger was even worse, surely? If there was ever a time to stand up for herself, this was it. The rest of her life was at stake.

 

The door was slightly open, and she heard her mother’s laughter. 

 

_Maybe she’s in a good enough mood that she won’t be angry_ , she thought, though she knew better.

 

“It’s so ironic,” Regina said. 

 

“Indeed, my queen.” The other voice was the man in the mirror. Emma wasn’t supposed to know that he existed, but she’d seen him by accident a few times. After she’d mentioned him to her mother the first time she’d seen him, the queen had accused her of making up stories and had locked her in her room for days without food or any human contact, and Emma learned to pretend that he didn’t exist.

 

“Snow White ruined my life, and I took everything from her: her husband, her child, her home,” Regina boasted. It wasn’t the first time Emma had heard the name of Snow White, though she’d never heard Regina mention her. “And now her daughter is going to give me everything I want.”

 

“She’ll be a lovely bride,” the mirror man said as Emma stood frozen.

 

_Her_ daughter? Emma held her breath, clinging to the wall for support. Surely she couldn’t mean ...

 

“Eh,” Regina said. “She’s pretty enough, I suppose, but the only thing that matters is that her marriage will mean that Rumpelstiltskin will owe me a huge favor. He will _have_ to help me bring Daniel back now.”

 

Emma backed away slowly and silently, turning to run as soon as she got to the end of the hallway. She was back in her room in moments, scowling as she saw the maid, Anna, waiting for her.

 

Taking a deep breath, she did her best to channel her moth — to channel Regina, ordering the girl to leave immediately. “I don’t need your help,” she said. “I’ll get ready on my own.”

 

“The queen said —”

 

“She _said_ for you to help me if I need it,” Emma snapped. “I don’t. Get out.”

 

Normally she never would have spoken to any of the servants that way, since it appalled her when Regina did, but she needed some time alone. To figure out what to do.

 

Once the girl was gone, Emma was moving without even realizing what she was going to do. She shoved her most plain dress and a spare set of trousers and shirt in a sack along with a pouch holding the small amount of money she had, tossing handfuls of jewelry in after. Regina herself had much more valuable jewelry, but Emma wasn’t going to risk going near her rooms, so this would have to do. She dug out a hooded cloak from her wardrobe and slipped it on.

 

Taking a quick look around her room, she realized suddenly that there was nothing here that she wanted to take with her, nothing that was really hers. Nothing but lies.

 

Shaking her head, she risked a glance out the door. Finding the hallway empty, she slipped away, down the stairs and through the secret passage she’d discovered as a preteen. 

 

She’d only been into town a few times, under strictly controlled circumstances. Regina had claimed to be concerned about her enemies and that they might want to hurt her “beloved daughter.”

 

Of course now she realized Regina’s concerns were probably something else entirely.

She undoubtedly just didn’t want someone to spill the beans that Emma wasn’t really her daughter at all.

 

Covered in her hooded cloak, Emma moved about the town, excited despite herself to actually get to see what the world was like outside the castle walls. It was growing dark by the time she made it through town to the waterfront. Buying passage on a ship was her only hope of getting away. If she could find someone to take her to Arendelle, she might be safe.

 

* * *

Hours later, Emma sat in the corner of the booming tavern, nursing an ale and people-watching. Despite her hurry to escape, she couldn’t help but be fascinated by the back-and-forth, the laughter and flirting, boasting and arguments that went on all around her. She’d realized just from listening, how many people feared the queen and how hard a time she was going to have finding someone to take her away. If she was recognized, they’d return her to the castle in an instant. If they didn’t recognize her, they were likely to think she’d stolen all the jewelry she wanted to use to buy passage.

 

She was hopelessly contemplating taking to the woods and hiding out, when she heard a loud voice proclaim, “No king or queen rules over a pirate, boys!” to jeers and laughter. Turning slightly, she looked into the corner, losing her breath when her eyes locked with those of the handsomest man she’d ever seen. He was dark haired, with a short beard, a wide, wild grin and striking blue eyes that bore into her even from across the room. 

 

Swallowing hard, she left her table the moment one of the men at his side drew the pirate’s attention, moving over to the bar and putting a wooden post and a stout barkeep in between herself and his gaze.

 

Placing a few coins on the bar, she asked the keep in a low voice, “Who is that man in red? The one in the corner?”

 

The man frowned, scooping up the coins and shaking his head. “That’ll be Captain Hook of the Jolly Roger. He’s quite popular with the ladies, I reckon, but he’s a very dangerous man. I’d advise you to stay as far from him as possible, if you’d be wanting my opinion.”

 

She nodded. “Sounds smart,” she said, pushing away from the bar and slipping out the door.

 

A dangerous pirate who wasn’t afraid of the queen. Sounded like the perfect person to help her escape.

 

Her plan was simple: Sneak onto the ship while its crew closed down the pub, wait until they got far enough out that turning back would be a hassle, then offer all of her valuables to the captain to get her as close to her friend Elsa’s kingdom as possible.

 

It wasn’t until they’d been sailing for a few hours, and queasiness and fear started to get to her, that she realized the gravity of what she had done.

 

She’d been so eager to escape from her mother that she had stowed away. On a pirate ship. 

 

Pirates, who were known for simply taking what — or who — they wanted and probably didn’t take kindly to stowaways. And princesses who were probably worth a fortune in ransom? They could undoubtedly get more for returning her to Regina, with or without her innocence intact.

 

_I’m an idiot. The most foolish girl who ever existed_ , she thought, curled on her side and groaning as the ship rolled over another big wave. She was an idiot who was going to die.

 

But hey, at least she wouldn’t have to get married.

 

* * *

She woke feeling better, and strangely … comfortable.

 

A bed. She was in a bed.

 

Emma’s eyes flew open in alarm, expecting to see her bedroom at the castle. Instead, she was met with the sight of the pirate, Captain Hook, rifling through her bag and inspecting her jewelry with interest.

 

“Wha—?” she cleared her throat and tried again. “What the hell?”

 

The pirate’s eyes met hers again, and this time he wasn’t smiling. “What the hell, indeed, lass. One of my men found you in a bad state below last night. It’s been a long time since someone was foolish enough to stow away on my ship.”

 

Emma pushed herself into a sitting position, shoving back the covers, relieved to find that she was still fully clothed except for her boots. She sat on the edge of the bed, dangling her legs off the side and watching as the captain inspected a particularly gaudy ruby bracelet … that was hanging from the hook, the _actual hook_ he had in place of his left hand.

 

“I need to buy passage on your ship,” she said firmly, forcing her eyes away from the hook and back to his face.

 

“You’re fortunate,” he said, as though she hadn’t spoken. “Whitworth, the man who found you, is quite a decent fellow. Others among my crew wouldn’t have brought you to me … unmolested.”

 

Emma swallowed hard, fighting a shudder. She had seen some of the men surrounding the captain at the tavern, and the thought of any of them laying a hand on her gave her a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She had been such a fool, and she knew it, but now she could only hope to push forward and salvage the situation.

 

“I owe him my thanks, then,” she said.

 

“And what,” he asked slowly, “about your debt to me?”

 

“Wh — what?”

 

“What is your name, love?” he tossed the bracelet back in her sack and set it aside, focusing all of his attention on her. It made her stomach twist in an entirely different way. He really was very handsome. It was no wonder, she thought, that women liked him so well.

 

“Anna,” she lied, after she realized she’d been staring at him a bit too long. He realized it as well, if the cocky grin on his face was any indication.

 

“Hmm, _Anna_. Wherever did you get all this lovely jewelry?”

 

“I’m — I was a ladies’ maid,” she said defiantly. “I stole it.”

 

“You stole it?”

 

“Yes,” she said, irrationally defensive considering it was nothing but a lie. “You’re a pirate. It’s hardly fair for you to cast stones over a bit of thievery.”

 

He was still smiling at her. “No, I suppose not. But I don’t believe it.”

 

“You don’t believe I stole it?”

 

“Hmm,” he said again. “I don’t believe you’re anyone’s maid. I’ve seen you somewhere before, haven’t I?”

 

Swallowing hard, she nodded. “At the tavern. Last night.”

 

“Yes, but that’s not it. Somewhere else …”

 

“I hardly think so,” she said. 

 

He studied her with a slight frown, kicking her heart rate up a notch. After a moment, he turned his gaze back on her bag. 

 

“Ahh, of course. It’s not Anna, is it, your highness?”

 

She didn’t speak, scrambling to think of a lie, or a way to convince him not to take her back.

 

“I’ve only had the misfortune of visiting Regina’s castle once, but I do recall seeing a painting of you with your mother —”

 

“She’s not my mother,” Emma snapped. When he simply stared at her, eyebrows raised, she continued in a low voice. “She stole me when I was a baby, and I want to get as far away from her as possible. The jewelry is mine, and you can have all of it. I’m headed for Arendelle, but I’ll settle for getting as far away from Misthaven as possible.”

 

The captain studied her closely, pushing to his feet to stand in front of her, tilting her chin up with one finger. It was uncomfortable to be under his intense focus, but also a little thrilling, though she’d hesitate to admit it if asked.

 

“It’s true, I see nothing of her in your face,” he said slowly, releasing her but not stepping out of her space. “What makes you think this is so?”

 

“I heard her talking,” Emma said. “She said that I was her enemy’s daughter, and she was going to marry me off to Rumpelstiltskin’s son to gain his favor.”

 

His expression grew stormy, and for a moment she forgot to breathe. Handsome he might be, but his face bore the look of a man who was not to be crossed.

 

“The Dark One? She would marry you to the Dark One’s son?”

 

Emma nodded, her entire body tensing for … something. He looked like he wanted to hit something — or someone.

 

He seemed to notice her fear, taking a deep breath and assuming a bland expression again. “I see why stowing away on a pirate ship seemed like the better option.”

 

“It wasn’t my most thought-out plan,” she admitted.

 

“Not the smartest move,” he said, finally stepping back and moving the chair aside. “But bold, very bold. Perhaps you’ve a bit of pirate in you.”

 

“Not unless Snow White married one.”

 

“Snow … of course,” he said, looking closely at her once more. “Yes, I do see the resemblance. I’ve never met her, but I have seen her likeness. Not in Regina’s palace, of course. Well, then, not a pirate. A bandit.”

 

She slid off the bed and stepped closer to him. “Snow White was a bandit?”

 

He tilted his head at her curiously. “No, I don’t suppose the Evil Queen would have allowed stories about your mother. Well, never fear, love. I’ll tell you everything I know of her on our way to Arendelle.”

 

“You’ll take me there, then?”

 

“I get a bag full of jewelry and the opportunity to thwart the plans not only Regina but the Dark One as well. No pirate worth his salt would refuse.” Then he leaned in close enough to feel his breath on her face. “Not to mention, three weeks in close company with a lovely princess.”

 

She took a steadying breath, willing herself not to shudder. The last thing she needed was to become involved with a pirate, no matter how handsome and charming he was. The man had a hook for a hand, for heaven’s sake. She only hoped she could trust him to live up to his end of the bargain.

 

“Hardly a princess anymore,” she said. “It’s Emma.”

 

“Pleased to meet you, Emma. I am Killian Jones, more widely known as Hook.” He waved the appendage in the air. “For obvious reasons.”

 

She nodded. “Three weeks, then?”

 

“Aye. As long as we meet fair seas along the way, I’ll deliver you to Arendelle in good time. What awaits you there, if I may ask? A lover?”

 

Blushing, she moved around the other side of the table, fingers slipping over the books that cluttered its top. “A friend,” she said. “I haven’t seen her since we were children, but we’ve corresponded ever since. I hope she can help me find my mother.”

 

He nodded, studying her again, but this time it was almost clinical, with none of the heat from before. “Do you feel you’ve got your sea legs, then? Up for something to eat maybe?”

 

She thought about it for a moment before nodding. She felt none of the queasiness and trembling from before, and she’d almost forgotten she’d been sick. “I think so,” she said. 

 

“Excellent! I’ll have Smee fetch us some supper. It’s not often I get to have civilized company for my meals.”

 

* * *

The three weeks on board the Jolly Roger flew by. After the first two or three, she nearly forgot she was in the presence of pirates. Most of her time was spent with Hook, who regaled her with tales of the sea or with rumors and stories he’d heard of Snow White. She gathered each scrap of information about her real mother greedily, though they could not possibly all be true, recording them in a small bound notebook the captain had given her. In return, he asked her a number of probing questions about Regina and Rumpelstiltskin, all of which she freely answered. She saw no reason to protect what little information she had, and she suspected her knowledge, such as it was, was a large part of the reason he’d agreed to take her to Arendelle.

 

She enjoyed her days on deck, the sun and sea and the fresh air almost bringing her to life. The sheer vastness of the ocean was somehow comforting rather than frightening, conveying to her that the world was uncharted and full of possibilities. No explanation was given to the crew for her presence, and only Mr. Whitworth and possibly Smee knew the truth. The rest likely assumed that she was the captain’s mistress, an implication that bothered her less than it probably should.

 

Her evenings were spent in his company, having dinner and talking for hours, oftentimes ending the night reading quietly together. He insisted that she take his bunk, and he slept in the nearby guest cabin. Apparently being known as the captain’s woman made her untouchable, a favor she greatly appreciated.

 

He was always friendly and charming, quite gentlemanly except for a few double entendres and the occasional heated glance, and she found she enjoyed spending time with him. A few times, when it was late and they’d yet to go to bed, he spoke in low tones about his childhood with his brother (lost a number of years ago) and how he’d once loved a woman whose past came back to haunt them both. These moments left her feeling at odds; she’d never experienced such loss, and she always wanted almost desperately to comfort him, though she didn’t know how. 

 

The night he’d told her of Milah, she’d taken his hand on instinct, only to comfort him. But the way his hand enveloped hers made her heart race and left butterflies fluttering in her stomach. He’d laced their fingers together and gave her a deep, searching look that only set off more butterflies. It was like he could see right into her, and she didn’t like it one bit. Fortunately, he’d quickly disengaged their hands, clearing his throat before making his apologies and going to bed.

 

Emma was a great reader, and she’d read many romantic tales. She knew perfectly well what her feelings were; she simply never expected to feel such things for a man who would never be her husband. At any rate, she had to focus most of all on finding a safe place to stay until she could begin searching for her mother, assuming Snow White was still alive somewhere. She tried not to wonder why her mother hadn’t found a way to get her back in nearly 20 years. Or who her father was and if he was alive. There was no point in wondering; she would simply have to find Snow White first, then deal with the other questions.

 

There was definitely no time for handsome pirates in her life.

 

* * *

Arendelle was lovely, the town itself somehow appearing more cheerful than Emma’s home, possibly because its people didn’t have to fear their own rulers.

 

Once the Jolly Roger was docked, Emma said farewell to the crew and allowed Hook to escort her off the ship and into town. They didn’t speak, as Emma was too busy taking in the bustle and life of the town. She wondered if she’d ever get used to being around so many people; it was simply fascinating. 

 

When they reached the gates of the palace, they came to a stop, and Hook handed over her bag and cloak, which he’d insisted on carrying.

 

“I’ll leave you here, if you don’t mind,” he said. “They’re not likely to take kindly to a pirate at the castle.”

 

“Of course,” she said. “I … Captain, I want to thank you for helping me. I couldn’t have escaped without you, and I’ll never forget that.”

 

“I was well compensated,” he reminded her, smiling slightly. “But you’re welcome all the same.”

 

“Where will you go now?” she asked.

 

He shrugged. “Anywhere I like. We’ll stay here for a few days, then see how the wind blows. That’s the beauty of being a pirate, milady.”

 

She nodded, feeling a strange sort of panic that she’d never see him again. “I … I’ll never forget you,” she said quietly, looking down.

 

“Nor I, you,” he said, taking her hand. “It was a pleasure, Princess Emma. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

 

Nodding briskly, she slipped her hand out of his and turned toward the gate, blinking back tears. Giving her name to the palace guard, she turned back to take one last look at Hook, but the street behind her was empty.

 

* * *

Elsa’s parents welcomed her warmly, promising to shelter her while they sent some of their best men to look for her mother. It was wonderful to catch up with Elsa and finally meet her younger sister, Anna, but alone in her room that night, Emma felt restless. 

 

She was grateful to the king and queen for taking her in and taking her quest as their own, but she wasn’t a child. Snow White was her mother, and finding her wasn’t something Emma wanted to hand off to anyone, even these well-meaning royals.

 

Picking her bag up, she reached in to find her notebook, freezing when she encountered metal instead. Dumping the bag’s contents out, she gasped as she saw every bit of jewelry and even her small sack of coins spread out across the bed.

 

Hook hadn’t taken a thing.

 

Taking a deep breath, she shoved all the jewelry and clothing back into the sack, fastening the top firmly. She took a few minutes to write a note of thanks and apology, slipping it under Elsa’s door before leaving the castle and heading for the waterfront.

 

Since Hook hadn’t taken any of her valuables, she had more than enough money to hire a vessel to take her to search for her mother.

 

And she knew just the ship she wanted.


End file.
